Day 24: Pastor's Secret

The Prompt: Pastor has a secret, and if anyone finds out, it could ruin him.  What is it?

My fiction professor asked us to write opening sentences that give as much information as possible.  I tried to do that with today's prompt.

He paced back and forth inside his office for who knows how long, the carpet showing a distinct groove from the path his lean yet youthful legs had made.  He always did this when he was deep in thought, and the staff knew by this time to keep leave him alone when they saw him like this.  Consequently, the pastor usually left his door slightly ajar.  This time, however, he had it closed.  The burden in his heart was just too great.

It had seemed so innocent the first time he said it.  It just...happened.  He meant to correct what he said the first time it slipped out, but he never got around to it.  Then, when he thought about correcting himself, he thought that it was no longer relevant.  Then, the situation came up again, and like all white lies, he had to give another small one to cover it up.  Pretty soon, his white lies had become as the groove his feet were making now, a steep trench that was quite hard to get out of.

He had thought of telling the truth about four months ago, but so much time had gone by that telling his congregation the truth was harder than it had to be.  Each Sunday that passed without his confession left an even heavier burden on his heart.  It didn't help matters much when three months ago his daily devotions took him through the book of Exodus, and he stumbled upon the Ten Commandments.  "Thou shalt not lie."  This situation had pushed him quite close to telling the truth, but the same thing held him back each time.

Telling the truth could ruin his whole reputation as a preacher.  He knew he wasn't supposed to put value on human esteem, but he cared deeply about his congregation's feelings.  They loved his stories, and telling them the truth would ruin him.  Over the course of his sermons, he had unintentionally worked this white lie into his sermons until his congregation expected it from him almost weekly.  It was his running joke.  He had even started elaborating on the lie. 

The situation only got worse when members of the church started asking him about it, wanting to see proof of his stories.  Another lie had to be fabricated to excuse himself from obliging them, and he could feel God's disappointment in him grow.  It had gotten so bad he could barely preach a decent sermon these past couple of weeks, let alone pray to God.  How could he pretend with God nothing was wrong?  He'd be hypocritical!

He stopped pacing now and stared at the colored sheet of paper that was still clutched in his hands.  Kourtney, one of his oldest members, had given him the flyer right after service that day, overjoyed to tell him the great news.  She had signed him up for the event that the flyer was advertising for; he was going to be one of the featured judges because of his "vast experience with that sort of thing."  Now he was pushed into a corner with nowhere else to run.  This situation demanded him to produce proof of his lie, and he could not deliver.  This was his last and only chance to tell the truth now.  He took a deep inhale and exhale, bracing himself for the decision he knew had to be made.  He had to tell them the truth, today.  He had to tell them that he had actually never owned a dog.